Leave No Paw-Prints
by Dan Elephant
Summary: England wakes up a cat. Adventures ensue.


First fic! So the story behind this is me reading the multiple fills for the 'Arthur is turned into a kitten and left on America's doorstep' prompt on the kink meme that were a) unfinished and b) very similar to each other. I just started imagining a whole other route for them and, well. I wrote this while slightly tipsy. I don't write fanfic much at all, but when I do there is usually a glass of wine involved.  
There is supposed be a plot twist. I have side-tracked myself with cuteness but I will endeavour to find my way back to the path of awesome. Give it a chapter or two. Meanwhile even if I have to change this I want to post it therefore I shall. (I'm still under the influence actually. shhh.)

**Leave No Paw-Prints**

England awoke one morning to cold stone and gnawing hunger. He blinked his eyes blearily, waiting for the world to start looking normal. It didn't. He blinked again, this time fully concious and very confused. Because the world just did not look right. The colours were different and everything looked bigger, for starters. And then there were the smells, which seemed inordinately strong for- wherever it was. Where was he? He tried to rub his eyes and found the motion confusing too, and the fur.

Fur?

He examined his hand or paw closely, feeling detached and reminiscent of a 19th century naturalist. This entire thing was very odd and he wasn't sure what to make of it. He got to his feet, experimentally. He didn't have trouble executing the action, it was just that nothing felt quite right. He shook himself. That didn't feel right either; he didn't think he'd ever been able to shake himself quite so thoroughly before. He tried looking around again. Beneath the odd colours and perspective he deduced that he was in some nice suburban street, still in America (he'd been there for work), and moreover, he realised as he looked behind him, he was on a doorstep. The door was very big. Much too big. He opened his mouth to say something, and meowed instead.

Ah. Well. That would explain a lot. How on Earth had he transformed into a cat? He sat down, curled his tail around himself to have a nice long think about it.

The door opened quite suddenly and he almost jumped out of his brand new furry skin. Then the incompetent human completely failed to notice and _kicked_ him, and panic took hold of him. He screeched, delivered one strong claw swipe then ran wailing up the nearest tree.

"f-, ow, what the hell"-  
It was America squinting up at him from the path and clutching his bare leg, swearing. America. He calmed down enough to be suspicious of this turn of events, annoyed for not recognising his whereabouts sooner (the colours!), impressed by how easy it had been to run up the tree, and not at all sorry for the blood on America's leg. He was still smarting from almost being stepped on.

"Sorry kitty, I didn't mean to scare you." America was approaching him, extending his arms in a truce offer. England hissed at him before realising he wasn't sure how to climb down the tree. So he let America take him, and quickly regretted it because of the awkward and uncomfortable hold. He squirmed and America put him down.

He was very tall. His feet were very large. England felt far too vulnerable.

America crouched down to pet him, and England was grateful for not having to crane his head but unsure about the strokes. They seemed to cover his whole body. Just how small was he? He wasn't sure he liked those fingers circling his throat either-

"No collar, huh? I'd know if anyone here had a kitten, especially one as cute as you. Where did you come from? hmm."

And then he left. Just like that. He went back into the house, pushed the door closed. England stood still for a moment, then meowed. Nothing. Louder. Nothing. He sat down, miffed and wrong-footed. Well he supposed it wasn't that odd, why would America concern himself with some strange kitten, exactly? He had work today. As did England, though god knows how he'd do it in this state. He tried to imagine turning up to a conference as a cat. It'd certainly be good for spying. His laugh came out as a rumbling purr. He shook himself. He didn't actually want to hear what people said behind his back, he could quite easily imagine it and it would be unpleasant.

As interesting as this whole experience had been, he was quite ready to return to human-hood, already. Time to plot some magic.

* * *

He quickly came to the conclusion that he could not do it without the right materials, and that there were quite a few details he still needed to check, and that all of that involved access to his library and stores. Which was vexing. He was on the wrong continent and a cat. Tricky.  
He was distracted by the smell of bacon.

This needs some elaboration: a human might enjoy the smell of bacon, it might make him or her feel hungry. But for a cat, well, it momentarily overwhelmed the senses and wiped all other thoughts clean from his mind. Nothing was left except bacon. The world couldn't keep turning until bacon. He had been hungry before but now it assaulted him with an overwhelming urgency. Bacon bacon bacon. He would think, later, that if this was what it was like for a cat, being a dog must be unimaginably hard and glorious. But not yet, for all he could think of then was bacon.

There was a window pane in the way. He registered this after trying to walk through it. He yowled.

And then the glass was gone, and once again there was a large warm hand in his fur. He didn't mind this time. He could hear America laughing, a strange noise to his new ears. How could he mind, when America was telling him he could have some bacon.

Bacon seemed to taste even better than normal. Must have been those feline taste buds.

He looked up, purring. America was grinning down at him, looking so honestly happy it made his heart ache a little. People just weren't as nice and open to each other as they were to animals. He leapt onto his lap. America rubbed his ears, babbling sweet nonsense. It was a little shocking how easily the warmth engulfed him, how a secure he felt, how a little bit of loneliness he didn't like to acknowledge was gently relieved. It probably ought to have put him guard but... He thought to himself, well, if he had to be a cat for a while, this would be a nice place to do it. No one had to know.


End file.
